How Ovelia Got Her Brave Back
by Laziness Incarnate
Summary: Ovelia pwns Delita via broken gameplay mechanics.


Author's Note: I doth dedicate this story Alexander O. 'tis-your-birth-and-faith-that-wrong-you-not-I Smith.

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**How Ovelia Got Her Brave Back**

"Do you remember when first we met, dearest Delita?" Ovelia was heard to say one fateful day in Ivalice. "Do you remember what delightful words did grace your tongue at our encounter?"

Delita, for his part, remembered not what he had said, as he had been busy bequeathing a puissant punch unto his dearest Ovelia's gut at the time, and so he said to his future queen: "I fear I have forgotten, my sweet, so charmed was I by your charms at the time, alas."

"Yes," said Ovelia, "just as I was taken by your arms. Quite forcefully."

The future king of Ivalice did perform a slight cough. "Pray remind me, my dove—"

"You said, after striking me, ''Tis your birth and faith that wrong you, not I.'"

"Ah, now I recall," Delita recalled. The line had spilled from his mouth rather poetically, he'd thought. "What of it?"

A wrinkle made its way across Ovelia's pale brow. "I have tried to decipher the meaning of those words for many days, many days my love. But still I do not understand."

Ah, the small worries of the small-minded. 'Twere well she had little else in her head than a wrinkle. "Worry not, lovely Ovelia. 'Twas of little consequence."

"Twas not!" the lady doth protested. "Indeed, 'twas delivered with such 'punch' that I could not forget it."

The future king of Ivalice did perform a slight wince. By all that was blasphemical, what was wrong with the girl today? Time to deflect, divert, distract, deceive and other words that alliterated with Delita. "Ah, you must forgive my, ah, overzealousness at that time. It was poor of me, I admit, but I was born poor you see—"

"Let me finish," insisted she. "After much thought, I have come to this conclusion: you, in the rush of the moment, misspoke. You meant to say not 'faith' but rather 'bravery,' did you not? ''Tis your birth and bravery that wrong you, not I.' That sentence would be much more sensical, for my bravery was indeed uncommonly low at the time. My faith, on the other hand, was exceedingly high, as I had just moments before been praying in the church, as I am wont to do when I am not being kidnapped. However, faith has no bearing on how well one reacts to a blow, whereas bravery does, and so my bravery did wrong me, for it was low, almost low enough for Chicken status, and thus of great consequence when you punched me."

Delita was not sure what to say to that.

"I take it by your silence that you agree?"

Delita was starting to agree with the rumours about royalty and madness, actually.

"My faith is now near zero by the way, and I oftentimes find myself inflicted with Atheist status. Terrible for casting spells, wonderful for taking them, am I right?"

Delita mentally shook himself from his stupor. "You could not be more correct, my dear."

"Speaking of one hundred percent correct," she continued to speak in tongues, "my bravery is now at one hundred, meaning one hundred percent chance of my reaction abilities going off, though of course this is but a temporary state as one can only max out one's permanent bravery score at ninety-seven, which I have done thanks to the special Squire who comes in and Screams at me every day, twice a day. While he screams at me I farm XP by Throwing Rocks at the hired help, who I order to stand very still and take it like the level one milksops they are—oh and I receive Job Points too of course, which have aided me in learning some rather useful abilities, such as Teleportation."

Yes, definitely mad. Raving mad. She would make a wonderful puppet queen, if he didn't accidentally murder her first. "Let us take a walk, Princess," Delita urged in the soothing voice he reserved for snaring wild animals and royalty into his service. "I will take you to the royal physicker, or perhaps the royal shrink, and he will put you to rights."

At these words Ovelia's mad, mad eyes seemed to grow even more mad, but in the angry way more than the crazy way. "I'll not take orders from you!"

Hm, that sounded familiar. "You've quite a mouth on you, Princess."

"But no nose! Why doesn't anyone have a nose in this game!"

Now she was making even less sense. Delita, very gently, laid a hand on her arm and tugged her toward the door.

This turned out to be a mistake.

"SHIRAHADORI!" Ovelia screamed with sudden Samurai fury, and Delita found his wrist twisted in ways most painful, and ("PUMMEL!") a moment later his entire body repeatedly beaten in ways even more most painful.

He fell to the floor in a Monk-clobbered heap.

As Ovelia Teleported through his twitching, gold-encased body and out the door to freedom, she was heard to say, that fateful day, "Who's the manipulator and who's the subservient now, peasant?"

THE END 

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Author's Note:

There are many, many stories that feature Delita being terribly mean to Ovelia. I wanted to write a story that did it the other way around.

(Actually, I mainly wanted to make hay of the faith/bravery system in FFT, because it is kind of hilarious that Atheist status = pretty awesome, at least for non-mages.)


End file.
